Something True (8 page)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

True

“Wallace? We need to talk.”

I dropped my tray and sat down across from Wallace at the lunch table he’d chosen in the corner of the cafeteria, since it was, once again, storming out. I was starting to think Hera was responsible for this weather. What better way to squash burgeoning love than to douse it with a few straight days of torrential downpour and gray skies?

“That’s ominous,” Wallace said, looking up from his iPad and popping a pretzel into his mouth. He was wearing a white T-shirt under his gray vest, and somehow the combination made his brown eyes seem deeper. Drawn up his left arm was a series of intricately detailed spaceships.

“It doesn’t have to be, as long as you answer my next question honestly.”

I took a no-nonsense posture, back straight, arms folded on the table. Eye contact, crucial.

“Shoot,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

“Do you like Darla Shayne?” I asked him. “
Like her
like her, I mean.”

Wallace froze. I think he stopped breathing. Somewhere in the cafeteria something crashed, and dozens of people laughed. Wallace didn’t flinch.

“Wallace?”

“Okay, yes.” He suddenly collapsed forward, his forehead hitting his iPad. “How did you know?” he asked the table.

My heart skipped around like a gymnast twirling a long, trailing ribbon. “I have a sixth sense about these things,” I told him. “The good news is, I can help you get her. Just like I helped you get Mia.” For all the good that did him.

I reached for my apple juice, popped it open, and took a few long gulps. My pulse was pitter-pattering in my veins. This was it. This was so it. I was going to match my third couple, free up Orion in the process, and return to Mount Olympus the victor. Maybe I could even get out of here without ever having to face Artemis and her obnoxious brother.

Wallace sat up straight. “That is never going to happen.”

“Why not?” I asked. “You’re a nice guy, she’s a nice girl. . . .”

Okay, I hiccuped a bit when I said she was “nice.” But she wasn’t horrible. She
had
once tried to help me when that awful Veronica person was posting horrible pictures of me online with embarrassing captions. She had her positive qualities. And clearly Wallace saw something in her. If a guy of his quality could love her, then she must be a good person.

“Like that’s all that matters,” Wallace said, slapping the cover over his iPad. “First of all, she has a boyfriend.”

“Yes, but—”

“And also, she’s popular.” Wallace lowered his voice as a pair of cheerleaders passed close by our table. “And she wants to stay that way, believe me.”

“So? Who’s to say she can’t go out with you and stay popular?” I capped my juice again and took a bite of my bagel.

Wallace barked a laugh. “Honestly, sometimes it’s like you come from another planet.”

My face flushed, and when I swallowed the bagel, it felt like a knife going down my throat.

“Also, there’s history. History you don’t just get over,” Wallace muttered, pressing his hands into his jeans.

History, huh? Gods, how I wished for my powers. If I had them, I could simply call up this so-called history. Find out exactly what had happened between them and know, in an instant, how to fix it. But I couldn’t do that, and I didn’t have the time required to conduct a therapy session right now. I had been on this planet for over four weeks, and my sand timer was getting perilously close to the midway mark. Plus, Artemis and Apollo were out there somewhere, just waiting to spill my blood and kidnap my love. This had to happen, and it had to happen now.

What I had to focus on here was the fact that Wallace liked her. And Darla clearly had some sort of feelings for him. It was the blush that had told me. The blush she’d gotten when she’d seen him at Goddess on Sunday. It wasn’t just any old blush. It was the blush of love.

“Wallace, trust me. I can make this happen,” I said confidently. “You guys looked pretty cozy at Boosters yesterday. What were you talking about?”

“Homecoming. I think she can win. She doesn’t,” he said flatly. “It’s pretty clearly important to her,” he added, glancing past me at a huge poster Darla had hung in the cafeteria—her and Orion laughing over Zeus knew what.

Wallace fiddled with a string hanging off the corner of his iPad case. The tingling beginnings of an idea danced inside my mind.

“So show her she can win,” I said slowly.

“What?” Wallace asked.

“Do your thing with the numbers,” I said, twiddling my fingers at his iPad. “Create an app for that or whatever. You’re good at that stuff.”

“I guess I could take a poll or something,” Wallace mused, narrowing his eyes.

“Yes! Perfect! Take a poll and show her where she stands,” I suggested. “You could even . . . I don’t know . . . offer to be her campaign manager or something.”

“Then she’d have to be seen with me.” Wallace snorted a laugh. “She would never—”

“Okay, okay. Baby steps,” I said. “But you can do it, right? Come up with a projected vote or whatever?”

“Well, yeah. Of course. I just need a good sampling of voters,” he told me.

“So do it!” I told him. “Show her you care about her. That you want her to succeed. Use your powers for good!”

“Okay. I think I will.”

Outside, thunder rumbled, but Wallace was already tapping notes into his iPad. I watched his fingers fly over the screen, feeling a giddy glow deep inside. This was going to work. I was going to secure love for one of my best friends, set Orion free from his relationship, and complete my mission.

It was a win-win-win. And the game was officially on.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Darla

My pinky toes were killing me. I should have known when I bought these stupid wedges that I’d never make it through a whole day of school in them, but they made me six inches taller, so I’d pretended it wasn’t an issue. But as I hobbled to my locker after the final bell, I was sure I could hear the poor little digits audibly screaming.

It was my father’s fault. I hadn’t seen the man in five years but was totally jinxed with his short-person DNA. It was so unfair. The guy who was going to completely bail on you shouldn’t also get to saddle you with their unsavory genetic material.

Why couldn’t I have been tall and willowy like my mom? But then, she wasn’t winning the Greatest Parent Award either. She’d totally blown me off for room service last night after Orion had gone home, claiming jet lag. About the only pep talk I’d gotten from her was “Sleep well!”

But that was her life. It was rough traveling back and forth across the country and giving speeches all day long. Sometimes she didn’t have the energy for a long Skype call. I just had to get used to it. I
was
used to it.

I came around the corner and saw Liza Verdanos, the other senior girl nominated for homecoming queen besides Claudia, holding court in her cheerleading uniform, standing in front of a huge poster of herself, also in her cheerleading uniform. She was handing out little LCH megaphones, which, by the way, was totally against the rules. And also unfair.

What would Veronica do?
I asked myself.

Gritting my teeth, I strode over to her, holding back a wince with every step.

“Hey, Liza,” I said, giving my hair an expert toss. “I thought handing out campaign swag was against homecoming policy. You should be careful. You could get disqualified.”

The smile on my lips was completely false. Which was fine, because the smile Liza shot back at me could have cut ice.

“They’re not campaign gifts. They’re for the game this weekend. The cheerleading squad paid for them, not me.”

“Wow. That’s a great line. Did you practice it in front of the mirror while you were doing your herkies or whatever?”

I didn’t wait for a response, but I did see her glower at me as I turned away. I think the pain in my feet was making me extra sour.

“Darla! Hey, Darla!”

I paused. The whisper was coming from somewhere nearby. I turned in a slow circle until I saw Wallace sticking his head out of the computer lab, waving me over. I glanced around to make sure no one was looking, then slipped inside.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I figured you wouldn’t want to, you know, talk to the likes of me in public, so here we are.”

The computer lab. I hadn’t been inside its walls since freshman year, when we were all forced to take a semester of programming. It smelled exactly as I remembered it, like manufactured dry heat, warm rubber, and mint gum. Two guys worked at a computer in the corner near the shaded windows, and Mr. Ryan, the computer science teacher, sat at his desk playing Dots on his phone.

Mr. Ryan was actually pretty cute for a teacher. If he’d get some sun and maybe trim his beard, he could probably get a date and find himself a life out there.

“Why are we here, exactly?” I asked, crossing my arms over my stomach.

Wallace sat down in the nearest chair and pulled out his iPad. “I polled some people during lunch and worked up a spreadsheet.” His eyes flicked over my legs to my shoes. My ankles were quivering. “Wanna sit?”

Thank God. “Sure.”

I sat down next to him, and my toes started to throb intensely. Still, it was better than the biting pain when I was standing. My phone vibrated with a text from Orion.

@ UR LOCKER WHERE R U?

I hesitated for a split second, not wanting him to know I was hanging in the computer lab, but then changed my mind. If I was supposed to be keeping tabs on him, might as well invite him to join us. I typed back:

COMPUTER LAB. COME BY.

“Check it out.” Wallace turned the iPad toward me. “With my current model, I have Liza Verdanos in the lead, with you trailing behind her by only three points. Claudia’s a close third, and Veronica comes in fourth. If you can scour yourself up a few more votes, you could win this thing.”

I looked into Wallace’s eyes in disbelief, then snatched the iPad from him. He’d shaded my vote tally in purple, my favorite color, and he was telling the truth. It was almost the same length as Liza’s vote tally and longer than Claudia’s. Veronica’s was centimeters behind.

Could this really be true? Were more people willing to vote for me than they were for Veronica? She would die if she knew this.

“You made this up,” I said, tilting the screen toward him.

“What? No. I’m insulted you think I would fudge any numbers, ever.” He sat back, indignant, his legs splayed wide in his dark-blue jeans. There was more doodling on his arm today, a line of Star Wars ships. Plus, he’d drawn a whole mess of elaborate curlicues around them.

“When did you have time to do this?” I asked.

“I polled people between classes and at lunch, then made up the formula to predict the rest of the student vote during calc,” he said, hooking one arm over the back of the chair. “I’m so far ahead Mr. Berkowitz doesn’t mind if I work on apps and stuff during class.”

That I could believe. Mr. Berkowitz had practically worshipped the ground Wallace walked on ever since Wallace had won the state math award as a freshman. There was a rumor that they’d driven into the city for Comic-Con together last year, but I chose not to believe it. Because weird.

“Anyway, you should really start campaigning,” Wallace said, closing a notebook and shoving it into his backpack. “You and Orion together are like a dream team. He’s got the new-guy mystique, you’ve got the popular crowd
and
the smart kids. It’s perfect.”

This was insane. Like, truly insane. I thought back to Veronica’s hyena fit in the car yesterday and felt something break open inside me. To her, the very thought of me winning homecoming queen was hilarious, but little did she know, I had a shot. A real and honest shot.

I could beat Veronica Vine.

“Can I ask you something?” I asked.

“You just did.” Wallace smirked. He looked cute when he smirked. It was too bad more girls weren’t into the sci-fi skater genius type.

“Why do you care? About me winning homecoming?”

Wallace slowly zipped his bag closed, as if he was carefully considering his answer. “I just really can’t stand Veronica Vine. Like, at all.”

Right. Of course. It was about beating her, not seeing me win. Which made sense, after everything she’d done back in middle school to make his life a living hell. When I’d started hanging out with Veronica, she’d basically staged a war against Wallace. She used to complain loudly about his BO, which he totally didn’t have. She started a rumor that he’d built a robot for himself—which he had—but she’d said he’d done it because he didn’t have any real friends—which was not true. She told everyone she’d seen him pick his nose and eat it after lunch, like it was dessert. Totally gross and totally false.

I don’t know if it was because she wanted me to stop talking to him so that she wouldn’t be associated with him in any way, or because she really didn’t like him, or because she was somehow threatened by him, but it had worked. The more unsavory she made him, the clearer it was that I had to stop hanging out with him if I wanted to stop being Darbot the Geek. So we had stopped hanging out. And the rest was history. Until now.

I tried to swallow this awful, sour lump that had settled in my throat. Usually I tried not to think about that stuff Veronica had done—the stuff I hadn’t stopped her from doing—but whenever I did, I felt like this.

“Wallace, I’m really . . . I’m sorry,” I said. “About everything. You know. Seventh grade.”

He stared me right in the eye. I couldn’t make myself stare back.

“Yeah, that sucked,” he said.

I looked down at my angry toes. “Do you hate me for it? Do you think you could ever, like, forgive me?”

“Sure. Of course,” he said lightly. “I did that already. A long time ago.”

“Yeah?” I asked.

He shrugged. “You didn’t want to be picked on anymore. I get it. People do what they’ve gotta do.”

He was right. I had done what I had to do. Exactly right and I knew it. So why did I feel so squirmy?

“Anyway, I think it’d be cool if you won,” he said, changing the subject. “If a junior won. Very antiestablishment.”

I still couldn’t believe that the junior with the chance to win was actually me. If I won, Veronica would be crushed. Suddenly I felt hot with fear. I couldn’t imagine how she’d react if they called my name at the homecoming dance. She would probably have the meltdown to end all meltdowns. She might never talk to me again.

But also, it would be kind of cool.

The door to the lab opened, and Orion walked in. I felt relief at the sight of him, like a cool breeze. He shot Wallace a curious look as he joined us.

“Hey, sweetness.” He leaned down and planted a kiss on my lips. “What’s up?”

“Do you know Wallace?” I asked.

The two of them exchanged a guarded kind of look. “Yeah. True’s friend,” Orion said, rounding his shoulders. “How’s it going?”

God! Could I not live through five minutes without that girl’s name coming up?

“Good. You?” Wallace tilted his head.

“Good.”

They were having some kind of standoff, which I just did
not
get. But I knew I didn’t like it.

“Ooookay, well, Wallace is a total genius with numbers,” I said. And yes, I was sort of sucking up to try to make up for the awkward. “And he ran this formula that says the two of us could totally win homecoming.”

“No way,” Orion said, his eyebrows rising. “Lemme see.”

Wallace showed him the iPad, first the graph for the girls, then one for the guys.

“Right now you and Josh are splitting the junior vote down the middle. If you can find a way to edge him out, you could definitely win,” Wallace explained, standing and lifting his backpack onto his shoulder.

“Wow,” Orion said, a spark of interest in his eyes.

“So
now
will you help me campaign?” I asked, grasping the sleeve of his varsity jacket with both hands. “If you start to take this seriously, we could make history.”

“Make history, huh?” He looked at me and smiled. “All right. If it means that much to you, maybe we should get on this thing.”

“You think?” I got up, ignoring the stabbing pain in my feet. I was too giddy, suddenly, to care. Orion was showing an interest in homecoming. A real interest. “Does that mean you’ll help me make more posters?”

“Totally,” Orion said, handing Wallace back his iPad. “Tonight? My place?”

I took a step closer to him. “I’m in.”

Orion pressed his lips to mine, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. This was more like it. This was what a couple nominated for homecoming should be doing. Making plans. Smooching in public. Well, inside the cave of the computer lab, but still. There were people here. They could tell other people what a perfect couple we were.

“So, um, I guess I’m gonna go then,” Wallace said.

Orion broke off the kiss. “Thanks for the info, man.”

“Yeah, Wallace.” I leaned my head on Orion’s shoulder, trying as best I could to convey my gratitude with my eyes. As much as I was thinking about the homecoming study, I was thinking about the other stuff too. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Wallace looked me right in the eye and smiled. “For you? Anytime.”